


Questions for Carol

by kilt



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith, carol - Fandom, patricia highsmith, price of salt, the price of salt
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilt/pseuds/kilt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short stories. All set after what happened in the book. Snap-shots of Therese and Carol living together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides the idea for this story. I only borrowed the characters.

“Why didn't you shoot him?”  
Carol and Therese were sitting in a theater in New York, waiting for the play to begin.  
“And then? What then?” Therese realized she just asked Carol something rather random because it was September and the road trip was months ago. “Would you visit me in prison regularly? Because I'm sure we wouldn't have handled this Bonnie and Clyde situation very well.”  
“Who would I be?”  
“What do you mean?” Carol frowned.  
“Would I be Bonnie or Clyde? Can I be Clyde because I'm not pretty enough to be Bonnie.”  
Carol leaned in and her lips almost touched Therese's ear: “Oh, that is not true and you know that.” Therese blushed.  
***  
“You really don't have to do this, Carol. This play will probably bore you. We can leave if you want to.”  
“Even if this play will bore me I can finally see the sets you've been working on for the past months.”  
Therese played with the cloth of her skirt. She was extremely nervous. Will Carol like her sets? Will she be disappointed?  
Carol reached over to Therese and squeezed her hand reassuringly: “It's going to be great. Don't worry, darling.”


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides the idea for this story. I only borrowed the characters.

“Have you ever heard of Fire Island? People at work have talked about that place. It's a place for... for people like us.”  
“People like us.” Carol echoed. “In fact, Abby and I have been there. A friend of a friend of hers owns a house there.”  
Abby. She was still a sore spot for Therese. She will always be Carol's first. The one who made her realize who she really is.  
“I think we could go there. The weather's going to be nice. I'm going to call Abby and ask her about the house. It's going to be a lovely trip.”  
Carol and Therese got up from the sofa, each heading off into opposite directions. Therese entered the bedroom and put a chair in front of the wardrobe. She was too small to get the suitcase from the top of the wardrobe.  
“Is this weekend okay for you, darling?” Carol yelled across the whole apartment and Therese almost fell off the chair from the sudden noise.  
“There are no rehearsals on the weekends for the next two weeks, so yes.” Therese got hold of the handle of the suitcase and stepped off the chair with a small grunt.  
“... we're doing more than fine. She's got a lot of work, doing sets and in order to do some adjustments she has to be present during rehearsals although she's done with her job. A lot of overtime, you see... oh, you know, I do my job. Arrive on time... yes, I am capable of being somewhere on time... stop it, you nitwit!”  
Therese knew perfectly well that Carol was just like she used to be: 15 minutes late. She's lucky nobody fired her yet but that's just because she is more or less her own boss being the buyer of furniture for the department store she works at.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides the idea for this story. I only borrowed the characters.

A/N: This is the only story so far with a specific date. This story is set in/or after 1956 because of the release date of the two books mentioned. I also took that scene with George and Jim reading on the sofa from Tom Ford's A Single Man as my inspiration for this story. It fits Therese's obsession with dying a sudden death.

The last notes of the last song faded. The record has ended.  
“It's your turn to change the record. Wanna surprise me?”  
“I might be old but not senile. It's your turn, Therese.” Carol poked Therese with her toe. Both were sitting on the sofa, facing each other, legs outstretched. They were reading.  
“Still it was worth a try. What are you reading?”  
Carol kept up the cover of the book for Therese to see: A Cold Spring by Elizabeth Bishop.  
“Show me what you got.” Therese was reading On the Road by Jack Kerouac. “Really? You're reading something by that egomaniac tramp? I'm shocked.”  
“He's writing about a road trip across the US. Doesn't that ring a bell for you?” Therese got up, gave Carol a peck on the cheek and changed the record. She fixed two drinks and returned with a grin on her face.  
“What is it? Tell me what makes you smile like that.” Carol demanded.  
“If I die in this moment, here with you, in absolute bliss, it'd be the perfect way to die.”  
“Don't say that. I wouldn't be okay with it at all if you died in this very instant. Not in the slightest.”  
“Good answer, Mrs. Aird. Therese smirked.  
“Don't call me that.”  
The first notes of the new record started to spread across the room. Living for you is easy living / It's easy to live when you're in love.  
“Really? This song?”  
Carol and Therese started cackling.


End file.
